


Dressing for Supper

by mcfair_58



Category: Bonanza
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-12 00:42:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7913716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcfair_58/pseuds/mcfair_58
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short written for Bonanza Boomers Pennings from Prompts (unpublished) </p>
<p>Nothing like a dinner-time discussion between the son of a French Quarter mother and a thin nosed blue-blooded Yankee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dressing for Supper

It was a sad thing when a man didn’t have an appetite.

Joe Cartwright picked at the food on his plate and then shoved it away. Leaning back in his chair, he studied his brother Hoss who was sitting across the table from him. Hoss looked mad as a wet hen.

As he sat there, his middle brother looked up. “What you staring at?”

“I ain’t staring, Hoss.” Joe crossed his arms. “I was just...thinking.”

“You were staring.”

“Well, you gotta admit, you’re big enough that if I look in that direction its kinda hard to miss looking at you.”

Hoss tossed his fork to the table. “Now, little brother, you know I ain’t in the mood.”

Joe’s lips twisted. “Still sore about what happened last night?”

“Shouldn’t I be?”

“Ah, Hoss, you know Adam didn’t mean anything.”

Hoss shoved his chair back and rose. “That older brother of ours, sometimes I’d just like to wring his neck.”

Joe snorted. “Get in line.”

That brought an ever so slight smile to the big man’s lips. “It’s just, well, sometimes he acts like he’s the only one all growed up. You know what I mean? Like I’ll be his little brother forever.”

Joe raised both hands before him. “Talking to the choir.”

“I know.” Hoss sighed. “And I apologize Little – Joe. I guess I do the same thing to you now and again.”

Joe’s dark eyebrows formed a diagonal on his forehead. “Now and again.”

“Anyhow, the next time I see that... well, that....”

“Cold blooded Yankee?”

Hoss scowled. “Joe, Adam’s our brother and....” The big man paused. Joe followed his look. He turned and saw the door opening. “He’s comin’ in the door.”

“What are you two doing lollygagging around? There’s work to be done!” Adam announced as he hung his hat on the hook by the door and started for the staircase.   
“You gonna take a nap?” Joe called after him.

The black-haired man halted. Adam pivoted back. “If you must know, Pa forgot his wallet. I am going upstairs to get it and then going back to work.” He hesitated. “Do you two intend to join us or are you going to spend the day playing checkers on the tablecloth?”

Joe rose. Hoss joined him as he came around the table. “Adam,” Joe said.

“Yes?” 

“We need to talk to you.”

Adam jogged down the steps. “What about?”

“Well,” Hoss began. “Joe and I decided it’s time you stopped treating us like little boys and give us the respect we deserve.”

Adam’s lips quirked. “Why, I think I give you every ounce of the respect you deserve.”

“See!” Joe shifted as the fire rose in his blood. “There you go! Insulting us!”

“Insults only hurt when they’re true. Isn’t that what Pa always says?”

Joe looked at Hoss. Hoss looked at Joe. They both looked at Adam.

Seconds later the war to end all wars broke out.

 

Ben Cartwright was growling and huffing by the time he got to the door of the ranch house. Adam’s horse was outside so his son had made it. He needed that wallet and Adam knew it. What in Tarnation the boy was doing he had no idea! 

Ben opened the door and stepped in. When he did, he paused. It looked like a hurricane had blown through the house. There were chairs upturned, lamps laying sideways, books on the floor –

And three very sheepish looking boys at the table.

He crossed over to them.

“Well?” he roared.

All three heads came up. All three of their faces were bruised. Joe had a cut over his eye and Adam was nursing a swollen lip.

It looked like Hoss had come out on top. 

“Can’t I leave you three alone for a minute without you acting like you were born in a barn?”

“Sorry Pa,” Adam began.

“Sorry don’t cut it, boy! You’re the oldest. I expect more out of you. These two,” he indicated Joe and Hoss, “why, they’re still young, but you? “

Adam winced and returned to eating his food.

So did Joe.

Nothing like watching your older brother get a dressing down to restore a man’s appetite.


End file.
